


House Rules 3: Glass Houses

by combatfaerie



Series: House Rules [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Brollins, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sex, Sexual Content, rollynch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: A sequel to HOUSE RULES and PLAYING HOUSE. No one really believes Seth and Becky's engagement story. From friends to friends-with-benefits to being engaged, they've been through a lot together, but adding a ring to the equation doesn't necessarily make it easier. The pressures from the outside are difficult enough to deal with, but the ones within the relationship itself are another. With vows on the horizon, will all the small rifts between them threaten to break wide open and prove the naysayers right or can their unconventional relationship have a fairy-tale ending?
Relationships: Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: House Rules [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860730
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

"You proposed to Becky on the beach." Roman had said it at least three times, so Seth thought he knew how the rest was going to go: Roman would glance down at the picture on Seth's phone—the sunset shot he and Becky had taken to have an audience-friendly moment to share with their family and friends—and then back up at Seth, then across Catering to Becky, who was showing off her ring to what seemed like the entire WWE women's division.

"Yeah. You know how much she likes the ocean," Seth replied. "And it was a gorgeous sunset, so I thought it would be a nice backdrop for the photo—"

"You. You, with _those knees_ ," Roman emphasized, pointing down to Seth's legs. "You got down on _those knees_ on a sandy beach." He raised an eyebrow as he scoffed. "You really expect me to believe that, man? Between your old-man knees and you worrying about losing the ring, you really think I'm going to buy that?"

It wasn't how it had happened, of course, but both Seth and Becky had decided that perhaps it was best to leave the specifics out of the story they shared with their family and friends. Their parents definitely wouldn't want to know that they'd been naked and about to fuck, and while their friends would have absolutely no problem believing the true version, even Becky and Seth admitted they wanted to have a story they could share with their potential children.

"It's a beach. . . ." Seth honestly didn't think the story he and Becky had agreed on was that far-fetched. People proposed on beaches all the time; when he had been dating Sarah, she had casually shown him countless pictures of beachfront wedding ceremonies. "There's the ocean. . . ."

Both of Roman's eyebrows lifted this time. "Bro. I'm Samoan. Trust me, I know all about the ocean." Then he smiled and squeezed Seth hard enough that his ribs creaked. "But I'll stop bugging you. I'm happy for you, man. Truly. I know that for a long time, this was something you thought you wouldn't want, that it wouldn't happen for you." With a smirk, he added, "See? All those times I called you an idiot, I was right."

"Why are you calling my fiance an idiot?" Apparently ring admiration time was over, because Becky had managed to make it over to Seth's side to hug him.

_Fiance._ Just hearing Becky say it made Seth feel like he was going to explode. In his head, he was already calling her his wife, but he was trying not to say it out loud too often; it would only raise a whole bunch of questions and spark a glut of rumours. It didn't mean he was successful, though: he had already slipped a few times around Marek, but at least his best friend would just shake his head and laugh. "He doesn't think I proposed on the beach."

Glancing around, Becky saw nobody within immediate earshot—now that the entire locker room knew, it was back to business for most of them—and chuckled. "That's because he's _not_ an idiot." Then she went on tiptoe and kissed Seth's cheek. "Only room for one idiot around here."

Roman laughed. "Good thing you staked your claim early, Becks. Idiots are in demand these days."

Rolling his eyes, Seth looped an arm around Becky's shoulders and pulled her in close. "I may be an idiot," he teased, "but at least I'm _your_ idiot?"

Becky beamed up at him. "Something like that." She rested her head against his chest and stayed snuggled up to Seth while he and Roman joked about beach weddings, but then something caught her eye. "There's still some people we haven't told yet," she murmured, tapping Seth's chest and pointing to the coffee station, where Hunter was speaking with Bray Wyatt.

"Right. The bosses." Seth's sigh ruffled Becky's hair. It was hard to tell what WWE management truly thought of their relationship. On one hand, the pairing of two of their most popular superstars should have been a dream come true, but both Becky and Seth knew the McMahons might not see it that way. "Want to get it over with now?"

"Probably should." Becky raised her head and stepped back. "Otherwise we'll be having a TV wedding next week and not find out until we get to Creative, and then both our mothers will be pissed."

Roman ruffled Becky's hair as he started towards the coffee station. "You mean they aren't already? Don't tell me they bought the beach story." Knowing he was too far away for Seth to smack him, Roman winked. "If you can make ten people believe that— _any ten people_ —I'll pay for your damn wedding myself, man."

Becky's laugh was borderline wicked. "Any ten? Challenge accepted." Then she tugged on Seth's hand. "Come on. Maybe if we tell Hunter," she added, "he'll tell Steph and Vince and then we won't have to."

Sliding an arm around Becky's waist as they headed over to Hunter, Seth nodded. Hunter was still one of their bosses, but he had been more like a father figure in NXT and much of that attitude carried over in his dealings with the wrestlers who had come up through developmental. Before either of them could start speaking, though, Hunter saw them approaching and held up a hand. "I already know," he began, "but let's take this to my office so we can talk without being interrupted every two minutes." Then he chuckled. "And no, I don't buy the beach story."

Further down the coffee station, Roman burst out laughing. "Told you!"

Shaking his head, Seth tightened his arm around Becky as they followed Hunter through the maze of corridors. "People propose on beaches all the time," he pointed out feebly.

"People do," Hunter agreed with a chuckle. "But you two? Honestly, I don't want to know." Then he rummaged in his pocket for the arena keys, opened a door, and motioned Seth and Becky inside. "I imagine you're getting tired of rehashing the details, so I'll tell Vince and Steph for you. How do you want to handle the public, though?" He edged past them both to sit behind the desk.

Becky and Seth shared a glance. "Well, I mean, we don't want an on-screen wedding, obviously. . . ."

Hunter laughed. "Who does? They don't have the greatest track record. But I meant in terms of how the company portrays it. Do you want the announce team to mention it, the social media teams, that sort of thing?" He paused for a moment before adding, "Because we all know you two aren't going to be able to keep it a secret for long, so we should have a plan in place."

Standing just inside the door, Seth kissed the top of Becky's head. "You're the social media guru. We both know I've made some . . . questionable choices."

Both Becky and Hunter snorted softly at that. "Low-key, maybe? One of us can post a picture on Instagram and WWE can reference it," Becky suggested. "And then we can see how it goes over?"

Hunter nodded, tapping away on his phone. "Okay then. Give me a heads up before you post anything so I can have our team at the ready. And I shouldn't have to tell you to pick a family-friendly picture." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "If it's a beach one, make sure it's not by a landmark, or we'll have vultures trying to get scoops from local vendors."

Seth's shoulders relaxed a bit. At least there was something they did properly. "They all have the ocean in the background," he replied.

"I can post it while I'm in Make-up," Becky offered, looking up at Seth. "Or would it be better to do it after the show, so the announce team doesn't have to worry about it?"

"After," Hunter decided at last. "No one backstage should leak the news, hopefully, but it'll give some of the matches a chance to trend too. You have a habit of breaking the internet, Lynch, in case you hadn't noticed."

Becky just grinned. "I'm a woman of many talents." Then she turned and hugged Seth. "I really should be getting to Make-up, though, unless you need me for this conversation. . . ?"

Hunter shook his head. "Go ahead. Text me when you're about to post. I'll warn Jeremiah that we have an important post coming up so his team has time to prepare. And congratulations, by the way. To both of you."

"Thank you." Becky squeezed Seth's hand as she reached for the door. "Catch up with you later."

"See ya." After Becky had left, Seth sank down into a chair. "Please don't let Vince turn this into a storyline. He'll want some trashy love triangle with me, Becks, and Charlotte or something." Envisioning fake pregnancies and cheating angles, Seth was suddenly glad he hadn't had a chance to eat anything in Catering.

Thankfully, Hunter seemed to agree, because he shook his head vehemently. "No, that's mid-card fare at best now. You two—and Charlotte—are worth too much to the company for that. He'll probably want the announce team to mention it, though, and I wouldn't be surprised if it gets mentioned in some storylines just for heat, but I'll do my best to make sure it's not a focal point." Clearing his throat, Hunter leaned back in his chair. "So . . . this is legit?"

Seth didn't follow at first. "What do you mean?" People weren't believing the beach story, but they didn't seem to want the truth either—not that he or Becky would ever tell most of them the real version anyway.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "The proposal. I mean, I saw the ring. At least _that_ looks real, or it damn well better be, considering what we paid you last year. But are you two actually getting married?"

"Yeah." Seth still had no idea what Hunter was getting at. "I mean, we haven't set a date yet or any of that. We've told friends and family, and now most of the roster, so we'll have to see when her family can fly over and when we could take a few weeks off and—"

"Huh. You're serious." Hunter looked vaguely impressed. "I thought it was just your way of making sure no one else beat you to the punch." When Seth shot him a sharp look, he added, "You're not the only guy on the roster in his thirties and looking to settle down, Rollins, and a lot of the guys not only like Becky but respect her. That combination happens less often than you'd think. I just thought maybe you figured you needed to make a move and get it official before someone else tried—"

"I proposed because I love her," Seth said simply. _I should be angry,_ he thought. Even a year ago, he probably would have stood up in a huff and shoved his chair to the side, telling Hunter to piss off. Now, though, he was somewhat better at letting the acidic sting of criticism pass until he could see the kernel of truth beneath. His relationship track record wasn't the best and there had been times where he had rushed milestones—moving in together, getting engaged—simply because it seemed like it was what was expected of him. With Becky, however, he wanted all those things in a way he had never felt before. "I love her and she's my best friend and I'd marry her tonight if I could."

Hunter chuckled. "Careful what you wish for. I'm pretty sure there's a few people on the roster who are legally ordained."

Seth laughed too. "I'm pretty sure Liv is. Seriously, Hunter, this is real. I wouldn't play around with Becky like that. I know . . . I know I've done things that can make that hard to believe, but being with her has made me start to look at everything so much differently now. What I can do, what I can be—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Save the emotional speech for the ceremony." Hunter held up a hand in a staying motion. "It's just that you and Becky are two of our top stars, in the ring and outside of it, and we want to avoid any implosions if possible."

Since Hunter didn't seem to want to say it, Seth let out a breath and filled in the blanks. " _Don't fuck it up._ I know."

"I didn't say that." But Hunter wore a rueful smile all the same. "Seriously, Rollins, I know there's pressure. When I was planning to propose to Steph, I ran through a hundred different scenarios in my head, a thousand. Then when she accepted and we were going to tell Vince. . . ." Hunter's soft snort turned into a chuckle. "After all that, it felt . . . forced somehow, almost like a performance. You're both wrestlers; part of your lives will always be a show. It's easy to love Becky Lynch; hell, just ask the merchandising department. But it's up to you to remember that she's Rebecca too. You have to be able to love both."

Seth nodded slowly. In a lot of ways, there wasn't much difference between Becky's wrestling persona and her real-life self; for him, though, the gulf between Seth and Colby could be vast—and hard enough for himself to traverse, let alone anyone else. Becky seemed to handle it with good humour, for the most part. One day, when they had both retired from the ring and were only making special appearances, things would be simpler, but until then, Seth was grateful Becky was at his side, helping to cut through the chaos. "I won't fuck it up," he said simply. It was a simple goal, perhaps crudely stated, but one that would take a lifetime to achieve, and he was beyond grateful for the chance to uphold it.


	2. Chapter 2

Guilt and giddiness were fighting it out in Becky's head after she left Hunter's office, but she was pretty sure the giddiness was going to win. She felt a bit bad about leaving Seth to weather Hunter's scrutiny alone, but she was still riding the wave of delight from the proposal, even if it had been a few days ago. They had told family and close friends first, then decided to wait until they could tell most of the locker room at once simply to save time. Now that most people in their lives knew, the weight of the secret had lifted and she could just enjoy the happiness like any other bride-to-be. 

Or so she thought.

Becky had gotten dressed for her spot and was just about to turn the last corner to the make-up area and was preparing herself for an onslaught of Iconics-grade squeals when she heard the first jab. "I don't know what she sees in him," the first voice declared. "He's cheated on how many girls now?"

There was a _clack-clack_ sound that Becky recognized as the sound of make-up brush handles being set out. It used to reassure her, signifying the last station she had to hit before doing an interview or heading out to the ring, but now it felt like a hammer to her skull. _Maybe they're talking about someone else. . . ,_ she thought.

"Not sure how he keeps getting women to date him, to be honest." The second voice was meaner than the first. "I mean, it's not like we haven't all seen the pictures." The laugh that followed was as brittle as the voice, as sharp as broken glass.

The first voice softened a bit, partially drowned out by the sound of a blow dryer being tested. "Well, she can't say she didn't know what she was signing up for, I guess. I hope she at least gets a nice ring out of it."

If the first speaker had warmed slightly, the second seemed determined to pick up the slack. "Eh, it wasn't that great. I saw it when I was in Catering. Looks like an old lady ring to me. That one he got for his first ex could damn near signal the space station."

Any kindness that had seeped back into the first speaker's voice quickly vanished, swept away as someone shook out a hair-cutting cape; Becky saw a flick of the fabric around the corner and scuttled back further so she wouldn't be spotted. "Maybe he learned his lesson. Save the big ring for an anniversary or a gift. The next girl he proposes to will probably get a Ring Pop." Then she laughed, almost as crudely as her co-worker had. "Might not be a bad idea, actually. You know, for practice? It's about the same size as—"

Becky was frozen in place and blazing with anger all at once, jaw clenched so tight she wasn't sure she would be able to open it again. But she forced herself into motion, rounding the corner before the slander could continue. The two make-up artists looked up quickly, and if Becky hadn't overheard them, she would never have known they were being so petty. "Oh, good," Becky said with false brightness. "I had a meeting with Hunter and I was worried that I wouldn't have time for the chair before I had to go do my interview."

"We'd always make time for you, don't worry about that!" Judging from her voice, the taller woman had been the first speaker, and she shared a quick look with her co-worker as Becky hopped up into the client chair. "Anything specific you want done?"

As she had eavesdropped on the gossiping women, even as she had rounded the corner, Becky had told herself she was going to behave. Now that she was in the chair, though, her anger burned hotter than ever. Seth was her friend, her fiance; he wasn't perfect—no one was, no one could be—but he didn't deserve to be insulted like that. "Just something simple," Becky replied evenly. "I know my forehead's oily, so if you could do something about that, that would be great. I don't want to signal the space station or anything." She gave a self-deprecating chuckle, but she was really laughing at how both women froze for a moment.

Normally the make-up area was bustling with chatter and activity, but after Becky's pointed comment, the two artists went about their work in near silence, quick and quiet, only piping up to ask if Becky had a preference in lipstick colour or which side of her head she wanted her braid on. For her part, Becky answered politely, but her hands stayed curled around the chair's arms. The temptation to hit something—or someone—was too great. She couldn't vent her anger on the make-up crew without repercussions, so she tamped it down as best she could, nearly knocking the chair over in her haste to leave the gossiping women behind.

Two turns later, Becky almost collided with Charlotte. "Hey, Becks. What's wrong?" Charlotte grabbed her friend's arms and held her at a safe distance. "You look like you want to tear someone's head off."

For a moment, Becky considered relating the story to Charlotte, if not the specifics; the cruel barbs were going to stay in her head long enough without her repeating them. But then she thought of a better way to channel the negativity, so she just shook her head. "Petty bitches, as Sasha would say. It's nothing. Let's go do our spot." As much as Becky loved wrestling, she was glad she didn't have a proper match that night. She was too agitated now; the rage would make her careless and she could accidentally hurt someone.

Even though the spot was mostly talking with a bit of an altercation, to Becky it still felt like it took an hour, and she knew it wasn't her best work. As soon as they were backstage, Charlotte hugged her. "Woman, I don't know what they did or said and I don't want to know. I don't _need_ to know, because I know you wouldn't be this upset over nothing. What I _do_ know is that their opinions don't matter. If you're happy and it's not at the expense of someone else, it's no one else's business."

Becky pulled her engagement ring out of the tiny pocket Mikaze had sewn specially into her gear and put it back on. It was familiar now, comfortable, and having it on put her somewhat at ease. "I know. I just—you think Seth and I are going to last, right?" She hated asking; she hated doubting herself and him enough that it gave the question any traction in her head. If she had to blurt it out, though, she was glad it was to Charlotte.

"Of course I do, Becks." Charlotte hugged her tightly. "If you were were in a relationship I thought was unhealthy, I would tell you. I _have_ told you, if you cared to remember."

It made Becky chuckle a bit, at least. "Point taken. Thank you, Char. I want to go find Seth and find out out what Hunter said after I left. Catch up with you at breakfast?"

"It's a date." After kissing the top of Becky's head, Charlotte shot her a wink and continued on to the women's locker room.

As she walked through the corridors, looking for Seth, Becky let her mind sink back down into her festering anger. She wasn't going to take it out on him, at least not directly, but she was still glad when she found him alone outside the men's locker room, tying his cuffs. If Roman had been there, he would have figured out what had upset her in a second—and what she planned to do. "Come with me," she said simply, grabbing his arm without breaking her stride. He was in the main event and judging from the clock she had seen in Gorilla, there was at least an hour to go before he was on. Plenty of time.

It didn't take Seth long to clue in. "I thought we were behaving and not fucking in arenas anymore."

"That was when we were dating," Becky replied, gaze focussed dead ahead. "Now we're engaged."

"So the rules change?" Rather than just keeping pace with Becky, Seth started walking faster, urging her forward. "You should have told me that sooner. . . ."

"Stop." It was an arena they were at frequently—and one where they had fucked more than once—so Becky had a good idea which rooms WWE never used. After opening a few doors, she found a room she liked and pulled Seth inside. The door had barely shut behind them before she had her hands in his hair, bringing him within kissing range.

Seth pulled her in close to his chest, lifting her slightly to lessen the strain on his neck. "Becks, what's wrong?" he asked when Becky pressed him back against the wall. They were both breathing heavy and she reached for his waistband, but he deftly caught her hands before she could push the cloth down.

Becky didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to dwell on it either. "Stupid people saying stupid things," she said simply, kissing him again, slower and softer this time. "So I needed some quality time."

"With your favourite stupid person," Seth quipped, letting go of her hands so he grip her hips, "doing your favourite stupid thing?"

The room was full of stacks of chairs and little else, so it didn't provide a lot of options. She and Seth were creative, though, and Becky knew they could find a way to fuck if they truly wanted to. What she really wanted, though, was to focus on Seth. He likely hadn't heard as much negativity as she had, but she wanted to counteract it, to make sure their memories of the night were good ones. "Something like that," she grinned, kneeling in front of him. When his brows dipped in confusion and he started to pull her to her feet, she shook her head. "Please? I need—I need to focus." If she concentrated solely on him, she hoped there would be no room in her head for the snide gossip.

"If you want to. You know I'm not going to complain. . . ." Seth leaned back against the wall and took a sharp breath as Becky ran her nails along his abs. "Careful," he murmured. "I still have my match."

"Damn." Becky tugged his tights down to mid-thigh and dug her nails into his ass instead, chuckling as he moaned. "If _that_ ends up on TV," she teased, leaning in to lick his balls while her fingers teased him, "it's your fault."

As soon as she took him in her mouth, her world narrowed down to him. The way his moans rumbled and rolled like thunder, getting deeper as his orgasm neared. How his fingers tightened in her hair, not just to urge her closer but to give her a few sparks of pleasure too. The look of rapture on his face when he couldn't hold her gaze any longer and had to let his head fall back against the wall. None of the naysayers, from the casual and well-intentioned to the deliberately cruel, knew him in moments like this, or how they would cuddle on the couch for hours just talking. The Seth they saw and judged wasn't the one she knew and loved, and she had to remember that.

Becky lost herself in pleasuring him so much that his orgasm almost startled her, making her rock back on her feet until his hands steadied her. "Thank you."

"Pretty sure that should be my line." Seth was still blinking slowly when he helped her to stand. After pulling his pants back up, he leaned against the wall again, holding her close. "I love you."

For a moment, Becky worried that he was going to press her for details, but Seth seemed content just to hold her, whispering all the things he was going to do to her when they got back to their hotel. The light sheen of sweat on his chest glistened almost as much as her ring, and in that moment, she wasn't sure which she loved more.


	3. Chapter 3

"I still need to find a picture." Becky's protest was half-hearted, however, and rather than pushing Seth away, her free hand curled around his neck. "Hunter and Jeremiah are waiting."

Seth kept walking her backwards toward the armchair in their hotel suite, though, almost tripping over the shoes they had just taken off . "And _I_ still need to get you back. I owe you for at the arena." He tried tugging the phone out of her hand, but her grip was tenacious. Normally that was something he appreciated, but just then he wanted to focus on enjoying the rest of the night with her, not picking out an audience-friendly photo to use for an engagement announcement. "Post it tomorrow. If it's this soon after the show," he added, trying to add a hint of reason to his otherwise self-serving argument, "people will just wonder why it wasn't mentioned on RAW, won't they?"

"People are going to question it no matter what." Becky managed to sneak the sentence out between laughing, teasing kisses. "Seth." Her voice probably would have sounded serious and chastising if Seth hadn't just slid his hand down the front of her leggings. "Just give me two minutes and then it'll be done. Otherwise someone backstage will leak the news and then we'll have zero control. At least this way we have some." 

Letting out a long, ragged breath, Seth moved back just enough to meet Becky's gaze, moving his questing hand up to her hip. Someone had said something at the arena that rattled her, but she still hadn't told him what it was. Her impromptu blowjob seemed to help expend some of her energy, but Seth still wanted to reciprocate—even though neither of them truly kept score , unless it was in a purely playful way. "If I get a new picture for my lock screen," he conceded with a wicked grin. It wouldn't be anything too risque—they had both learned from his leak to not keep anything incriminating on their phones—but he had something specific in mind.

"You already have dozens of pictures of me on your phone." Judging from her soft smile, though, Becky didn't mind too much. "Which reminds me: you should turn off your notifications. We'll probably be tagged in everything. . . ."

Narrowing his eyes, Seth stepped back to grab his phone. "New lock screen picture," he repeated, adjusting all the notification settings he could think of. He rarely posted to his public social media these days, but he could remember what it was like to get non-stop pings. After he set his phone aside, he sidled up behind Becky and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. "That one."

Becky snorted softly. "You're squinting because of the sun, and the ring isn't very visible." She scrolled through a few more pictures, pointing out some flaw—usually about herself—before moving on to the next. "It was easier doing this for family," she muttered. 

"Notifications off, remember? We're not going to see what people say anyway." Reaching up, Seth scrolled through the pictures again. He loved them all, of course, but he tried to view them with a more discerning eye. "There. The sun's not blinding, we're both looking at the camera and smiling, and you can clearly see the ring."

"And I'm stepping on your foot!" Becky's head thudded back against his chest. "People will be saying _Oh look, she's already walking all over top of him_ and that."

Seth kissed her cheek and tightened his arms around her. "Only because they wish you would walk on them. C'mon, Becks. It's a nice shot." When she still hesitated, Seth pretended to reach for her phone: if there was a guaranteed way to spur Becky to action, it was to take her phone. "No filter," he added as she opened Instagram and started looking at her options. "It's perfect. We just need a caption."

Becky's thumbs moved so quickly that she must have had something already in mind, but she gamely waited for Seth to catch upbefore she posted it. " _Happiest day of my life_ ," she read. " _For the rest of my life_. Good?"

"Perfect." As soon as Becky had posted the picture and double-checked that her notifications were off, she managed to send off a quick text to Hunter before Seth took her phone and set it aside. "And now we're not thinking about that for the rest of the night. Agreed?"

Nodding, Becky pointed to his phone. "So what do you want for a lock screen photo?"

Seth grinned, picking up his phone again and tossing it from hand to hand. "I was thinking we could recreate the proposal. No one would know," he added, "and it would be a nice memory—"

"No nudes, remember?"All the pictures he had of her on his phone were safe for others to see, even if she was wearing a bikini or her workout wear. They both agreed she had worked too hard and for too long to have her career undone by a photo leak.

Grabbing her hand, Seth led her over to the armchair. "I know. It wouldn't be . . . exact. Just enough for both of us to know." Letting his gaze sweep slowly down her body, he added, "Although if you wanted to wear heels—"

"Can't," Becky smirked. "It wouldn't be historically accurate. Also, I don't have any with me, so. . . ." She lifted one foot and waggled it at him. "It's sneakers or bare toes. Those are your only options."

"Like you have to ask." Seth jammed his phone in his back pocket to free up his hands, and his deft fingers pushed Becky's leggings down easily, but he left her underwear alone for the moment. "Safety net," he explained when she raised an eyebrow. "Just in case the shot goes too high."

"Uh-huh." Becky stood on tiptoe and gave him a lingering kiss before sitting in the chair. "Which would be a total accident, right?"

"Completely." Seth knelt by the chair and shuffled back and forth before he found a good angle. The chair didn't resemble their nesting chairs at all, but it would have to do until they got back to Iowa or Los Angeles. "Okay, stretch your legs out."

Becky teased him at first, stretching her legs straight out as if admiring her pedicure and then in a kick. "Okay, okay, fine. . . ." She finally scooted closer to the edge of the seat and extended her legs, leaning back to keep her torso out of the frame as much as possible. "Is this good?"

Seth was quiet for a few moments, taking pictures from different angles. Then he finally stood and scrolled through his picture gallery before showing it to Becky. "You can even pick which one."

"So generous." Becky's face lit up with a blush of surprise when she saw the pictures, though. "They're really nice. I know that sounds egotistical or whatever, but you captured the light really well. . . ." The sun had almost fully set, giving the pictures a brooding film-noir ambience.

"It's impossible to take a bad picture of you," Seth replied, leaning in to kiss her. After Becky picked her favourite shot, he set it as his lock screen photo and then promptly set his phone aside. "Now, what else could we recreate from the proposal?" His wicked grin gleamed all the brighter against the lush darkness of his beard.

Becky settled back in the chair and grinned up at him. "More jewellery?" She started to laugh but then sat up straight, giving him a shrewd look. "What are you doing? Did you plan something again?"

Seth had to laugh as her gaze started to bounce all over the room. "I didn't hide an officiant in here, if that's what you're worried about." When she started to rise from the chair to look around, he gently pushed her back, leaning down to kiss her. "Your mom would kill me. Plus I want to see what you pick for a wedding dress."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Becky let out a groan. "Charlotte's bugging me about that already. She wants to go dress shopping with me."

Even Seth had to admit his first reaction wasn't favourable. He knew Charlotte was one of Becky's closest friends, but the Flairs weren't exactly renowned for their relationship track records. _Not that I can judge_ , he reminded himself. "As long as she doesn't think we're having a double wedding."

"And not a WWE ceremony either." Becky unfolded her legs and stood slowly. "If I'm going to be stuck with you for life," she teased, "I don't want to destroy your knees just yet." With both hands on his chest, she pushed him back towards the bed.

But Seth caught her wrists before she could playfully shove him again. "Nope. I owe you, remember?" Then he spun her around until the backs of her legs bumped up against the bed. "But I'm open to requests. . . ."

Becky backed onto the bed and laughed. "I didn't ask if you had any requests. I must be doing this wrong. You're probably regretting that ring right about now—"

"Never." It was just teasing and Seth knew it, but he still kissed her before she could finish; he didn't even like thinking about them not being together, let alone talking about it. "But if you want to make it up to me and give me some options, I have a request. . . ."

Drawing Seth down onto the bed with her, Becky laughed again. "I already told you: I don't have any heels here. You'll have to wait to—"

"Tell me what upset you at the arena." His hands were already under her shirt, but Seth kept his mouth on her throat. "I'm not going to tell Hunter or get anyone in trouble, I promise."

Becky stiffened up a bit beneath him before grabbing a handful of his curls and bringing his mouth to hers. "Just stupid people, like I said. It doesn't matter. What they think doesn't matter." She wrapped her legs around his waist and slid her free hand under his shirt and along his spine. 

"But it bothered you," Seth countered, "so it matters." He grabbed Becky's wrists and pinned them gently to the mattress. As much as he would have loved to leave the incident behind them and just enjoy the rest of their evening, he didn't want it to fester in Becky either; he didn't want her to have to deal with it—with anything—alone. "Was it about me or you? Or both of us?"

She didn't avoid his gaze, but it took Becky a few moments to sigh and finally speak. "Technically both of us," she began slowly, "but mostly you."

Seth nodded and exhaled through his nose, keeping his hands around her wrists. As much as he hated the gossip and rumours, he would never intentionally hurt Becky, so it was a good way to keep his temper in check. "What did they say? The usual?"

Becky wriggled her hands enough that his grip loosened slightly and she could squeeze his fingers. "Seth, don't. They're not worth the energy."

"The usual," Seth repeated, "or something new?" He sat back a bit, letting go of Becky's wrists entirely so he could cradle her face instead.

She clearly sensed that Seth wasn't going to let the matter go, because Becky sighed, turning to the side enough to kiss his hand. "The usual, mostly: the pictures, the cheating, Leighla's ring."

Seth was tempted to ask who it had been, but he knew Becky would be more reluctant to divulge that. "Did they say it to your face?" he continued, stretching out beside her and stroking her hair.

Becky shook her head. "They were talking amongst themselves. I don't think they knew I could hear them." Then she gave a sheepish chuckle. "At least not until I made a pointed remark. Then they got quiet really fast."

"I'm sorry." Seth leaned over to kiss her cheek, letting his lips linger as he fought to keep his temper in check. For as much as people loved to talk about the importance of second chances, not many seemed willing to give them. "I'm sorry you have to go through that. I wish I could say it'll go away and things will get better, but. . . ."

"You can't control what people say about you. No one can." Becky cuddled in close, kissing his neck.

Seth wished he could. More than anything, he wished he could stop the naysayers, or at the very least keep their bitterness away from Becky. The more of a fuss he raised, though, the worse it would get; he already had a bit of reputation for being overly sensitive when it came to online criticism, and he didn't want to add to it. There were aspects he did have some sway over, however, and he resolved to focus on those instead. He could control his own reactions; when he was young, his mother always said that bullies craved attention, and if you didn't give it to them, they would eventually leave you alone. In Seth's experience, rumours didn't work quite the same way, but it was worth a shot. He could also put his own spin on it, trying to turn a negative into a positive. "I know," he said at last. "I know. But I can control other things."

Becky either caught the playfulness in his tone or was eager to change the mood herself; Seth suspected it was a bit of both. "Mm. Like what?"

He took that as his cue to loom over her again, pinning Becky's wrists to the bed again. "Every time you hear or see shit like that, you tell me," Seth explained, dipping his head down to kiss her neck, "and then I'll distract you."

"Oh, really? _Every_ time?" Becky's chuckle held a wicked edge. "What if it's two people? Does that mean I get _two_ distractions?"

Seth waited until he had tugged off her shirt to answer. "Sure. We'll make some ground rules later—"

"Because Kayla talks shit about you all the time. And since it's for a good cause," Becky continued, lifting her hips when Seth started to slide her panties down, "I could probably get Bayley and Sasha to chime in every once in a while. Maybe Charlotte. If I didn't tell Roman what it was for, I bet he'd have all sorts of shit to say about you. . . ."

After easing Becky's panties down her legs and tossing them to the side, Seth sat back. As much as he wanted to sound offended or even just stern, he couldn't help shaking his head and grinning. "Do you want to be distracted or not?"

"Of course I do." Becky happily shut up for a while, lost in kissing him and getting him out of his clothes. "What if I'm talking shit about you? Does that still count? Other people might get bored after a while and then I won't get any more distractions—"

"If you don't stop talking right now," Seth growled against her shoulder as he eased a hand behind her back to unhook her bra, "I'll find something else to keep your mouth busy."

"Promises, promises."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I had this scene written and mostly edited before I heard the news of Bayley's break-up. (In the original version, Bayley was still engaged.) I tried to amend it respectfully.

Coffee with the girls was never really just coffee, so Becky should have known better. There was always an announcement involved or some problem that needed solving or a request for advice. But she had been so busy enjoying engaged life with Seth that when Charlotte invited her for coffee before a taping of RAW, ulterior motives were the last thing on her mind.

When she noticed that the cafe in question just happened to be right next door to a bridal boutique, though, Becky couldn't think of anything else, and she was pondering escape routes when Sasha emerged from the cafe. "Becks! What took you so long?" Grinning, she darted out of the cafe, coat closed against the cold wind, and pulled on Becky's arm. "Dresses later, lattes now!" Becky almost looked for Lana, hoping she hadn't left quite yet, but she had already merged back into traffic.

Once Becky was seated, Bayley squeezed her hand beneath the table. "Sorry for the sabotage," she murmured as Charlotte and Sasha went to the counter to order their drinks. "I kept telling them you _just_ got engaged. I mean, hell, look how long I'd been engaged, and I never did have a dress picked out!" Among themselves, the Four Horsewomen gently joked that Bayley's engagement had lasted longer than either of Charlotte's marriages.

Becky didn't think she and Seth were likely to have a long engagement period, but there were so many factors to consider: their career trajectories, their health, when her family could come over for the ceremony. "I appreciate Charlotte's . . . enthusiasm," Becky said slowly, "but I'm not ready to look for a dress yet. Seth and I have barely talked about—"

"You don't need Seth to help you pick out a dress!" Charlotte kissed the top of Becky's head before setting a drink down in front of her. "As long as he can figure out how to take it off on your wedding night, that's all he'll care about. You could walk down the aisle in a garbage bag," she added with a wink, "and it wouldn't make a difference to him."

The heart of the sentiment might have been true, but Becky didn't agree with all of it. Between the two of them, Seth was the romantic one; he would want to make sure Becky was happy with all the aspects of the wedding. She didn't feel like arguing, though, so she curled her hands around her cup. "I'd really like to have my mom here for dress shopping," she said simply, "but if you want to look for yours, Char, I'll help."

Sasha patted Becky's shoulder as she sat beside her. "There's no rush. It's your big day!" she squealed. "You want to take your time and make sure it's just how you want it. Look around, get some ideas. . . ."

 _But it's OUR big day,_ Becky thought, looking down at her drink as the other three reminisced about Sasha's wedding. She chimed in often enough that no one accused her of being too quiet, and she made sure she wasn't the last one out of the cafe when they headed to the bridal boutique. Almost everything in the store was white and shiny and lacy, so bright it almost hurt the eyes, and she followed the other three as Charlotte led the way straight to the strapless dresses.

Becky tried to be attentive as Charlotte held up various gowns, asking her friends for their opinions, and she truly thought Charlotte was going to be stunning in whatever dress she picked. When a sales associate approached and Charlotte started asking questions, though, Becky froze. She knew she should be paying attention, taking mental notes for her own dress search, but it was too hard to focus. The day—her wedding day, whenever that ended up being—meant more to her than the dress, and Seth meant more to her than both combined. 

"Hey, Becks? You okay?" Bayley's question startled her and made her jump as she turned. "You're not looking so hot."

Becky was about to lie and say she was fine, but Bayley tilted her head in a strangely deliberate way and widened her eyes, clearly trying to telegraph _something_. "I . . . yeah, I'm feeling a little off. Maybe there was gluten in my drink?" She knew it was a stretch. Charlotte knew her order and her allergies as well as her own, but even the best baristas could make mistakes. 

The mere mention of gluten made Charlotte look over. "Becks? What's wrong?"

"Maybe I should get her back to the hotel," Bayley said quickly, winding an arm around Becky's waist. "The show starts in less than five hours and she has a big match, so. . . ."

Sasha took keys out of her purse and handed them to Bayley before giving Becky a hug. "Did you want us to come back with you?"

Becky shook her head. "Bayley will be able to help me." Since she didn't know if the fib was doubling as an escape route for Bayley as well, she kept her answer short.

"We'll have to plan a proper shopping day," Charlotte declared, hugging Becky gently. "Call if you need anything, okay?"

"I will. Thanks." Then Becky let Bayley herd her out of the bridal boutique, both women breathing a sigh of relief when they were out on the sidewalk. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'm not sick. I just—"

Bayley simply nodded. "It's overwhelming. I know. When I first told Sasha I was engaged, she wanted to have shopping days and everything, and I was in a daze for most of it." Pointing to the lot where her rental was parked, she added, "And don't worry. I know it's nothing about Seth. You're still just getting used to being engaged at all, right? When you're ready, you'll want to look for dresses and stuff. Don't let Charlotte pressure you."

"Thanks. I know it's supposed to be bad luck or whatever for the groom to see the dress," Becky replied, standing back as Bayley unlocked the rental SUV, "but it doesn't feel right to me to _not_ include him." As she got in the SUV, she made sure she still had her purse and phone; she definitely didn't want to return to the bridal boutique in a hurry.

"That's just a superstition from the old days." Then Bayley grinned as she buckled her seat belt. "Listen. You know Seth is like a big brother to me, and you're like a sister—which should really make this awkward on some level, but instead it's just awesome, because it means two of my favourite people are going to be together. Anyway, I know him almost as well as you do, and I know Charlotte's wrong. Seth will absolutely want you to love your dress—and if you're not ready to look for it now, that's okay. There's no rush." She reached over and tapped Becky's engagement ring. It was by no means a giant, but Becky was still getting used to the feel of it on her hand. "Seth is over the moon, and everyone knows it. He would marry you tomorrow if that's what you wanted, or he would wait five years."

"Five years might be a stretch," Becky replied with a chuckle, "but I know what you mean." Any talk of engagements or wedding dresses mercifully stopped there; Bayley changed the topic of conversation to her upcoming heel turn and Becky welcomed the switch. Before she knew it, Bayley was pulling up to the front entrance of the hotel. "You're not escaping too?" Becky asked before reaching for her door.

Bayley shook her head. "Nah. It might look too suspicious," she pointed out, "and I don't mind being the third wheel. Now that I don't have to worry about a dress of my own, I don't mind shopping for them so much. Besides, I kinda want to see if Charlotte's going to be a Bridezilla type. . . ."

"Thanks, Bayley. You're the best." Becky leaned over the centre console to give her friend a quick hug before hopping out of the SUV. "I'll text them to let them know I'm here and resting. See you later." After waving as Bayley departed, Becky headed inside, grabbing her phone out of her purse on the elevator ride to her floor. _Bayley just dropped me off. Hoping a nap will help. Take pics of the best dresses to show me later!_ She sent the text to both Charlotte and Sasha and then took out her room key as soon as she stepped out onto her floor.

Becky had thought Seth was going to be working out with Cesaro, but when she entered the suite, she spotted his fanny pack on the bed. "Seth?" she called out, setting her purse and room key on the entry table and glancing around. They were only in town for the night, so they hadn't rented a huge suite; it was only a bedroom with a small sitting area, but the bathroom, to her surprise and delight, was one of the nicest showers she had ever seen. _Maybe he's gaming with Xavier or someone and just left his bag out,_ she thought as she shrugged off her jacket and took off her shoes. It wasn't like him, but it would be easy enough to forget after a last-minute invitation.

"Becks?" Seth poked his head out of the bathroom, his wet hair dripping onto the carpet. "I thought you were spending the afternoon with the Four."

Two things made Becky stop in her tracks, all her anxiety slowly draining away. Even now, after she and Seth had been friends for years and lovers for months, his face still lit up when he saw her, and the way his eyes shone would never not make her heart flutter. The other was perhaps less romantic but no less real or important: he only had a towel wrapped around his waist—and loosely at that—and water from his hair was dripping down his shoulders and chest. "God, you're gorgeous," she murmured. If she hadn't already set her purse down, she probably would have dropped it and tripped over it in her daze.

Seth's soft smile accentuated his gentle blush as walked over to her and kissed her, cupping her face in both hands. "I've got nothing on you." After another kiss, though, he made himself pull back. "Are you okay? I thought you were going out for coffee with Char and Bayley and Sasha. I know you were looking forward to it. . . ."

She knew it would make her shirt wet, but Becky hugged Seth anyway. "I was, but turns out it was a ploy to get me dress shopping. Charlotte's been asking me and asking me, and I kept putting it off, so she chose a cafe right by a bridal boutique."

"And?" It was just one word, but Becky could hear a hint of worry in it.

"I must have looked unhappy or something, because Bayley fibbed for me and said I looked like was feeling sick," Becky continued, "and she brought me back to the hotel. The dresses were nice and all, but—" She ran her hands up his back, smiling as his breath caught. "It didn't feel right looking for a dress without you there."

"Isn't there something about the groom not seeing the dress before the wedding?" Seth cradled her head to his chest and held her close. "I mean, I'm on board to help with whatever you want. You know that."

"I know. It's just—" Becky let out a long breath, contemplating how much to share. She did her best to balance out the negative with the positive, but she knew venting could take as much of a toll on the listener as the speaker. "It just bugged me, I guess. Charlotte was saying that you wouldn't care about the dress as long as you could figure out how to take it off, and . . . I don't know. It just felt like she thought the wedding was going to be all about me and that you were just along for the ride."

Seth's deep chuckle reverberated through Becky's hands. "Well, when you put it _that_ way. . . ." Then he brought her even closer. "Becks, you know that's not true. I don't know much about wedding planning, but I want you to be happy. Whether that means a lime green wedding muumuu or having the ceremony in Estonia—"

"Hawaii." Becky pressed a kiss to his chest as she laughed. "There's no joking when it comes to Hawaii, you know that."

"Fair enough." Seth ruffled her hair before kissing her head. "You know what I mean. I'm open to whatever you want, but that doesn't mean I'm not invested. It just means that the centre of all of this for me is you. That's all. As long as you're with me, I'm good."

Becky lifted her head a bit to look up at him. "Maybe we could look at some Hawaiian venues online before the show tonight? Then I won't feel so . . . behind."

"Sounds good. We can do that over coffee." Seth gestured to the room phone. "Want to call in an order while I dry off?"

Shaking her head, Becky tugged at her t-shirt, which was now uncomfortably damp. "I want to change first," she said.

A grin started to spread across Seth's face. "If you're undressing anyway," he replied, starting to walk backward, "you might as well take a shower. Since you're feeling sick and all."

Becky matched his grin with one of her own. "Uh-huh. And even though you just had a shower, you'll stick around to make sure I'm okay. Since I'm feeling sick and all."

"Exactly." Seth started pushing her shirt up over her ribs. "How does that part of the wedding vows go? _In sickness and in health_ or something?"

"Hm." Becky stayed still long enough to Seth to get her shirt over her head and toss it back towards the bed. "I thought you wanted to write your own vows."

"I do. I am." Seth pulled her over the threshold to the bathroom and started undoing her belt. "But practice makes perfect."


	5. Chapter 5

"Galina wants to know what Becky's colours are."

Seth wasn't sure which took him more by surprise: Roman's voice—Seth had thought he was the last one left in the men's locker room—or his random statement. "Colours? Like . . . her favourite colours?"

Laughing, Roman shook his head. "Nah, man. You know, for the wedding. Bridesmaid dresses, flowers, the theme, all that. Galina knows a ton of people in event planning," he added, "so she'll have a ton of recommendations for anything you need."

"Oh." Seth zipped his bag shut and slung it over his shoulder. "We haven't really started planning yet. I mean, Becky's in the title picture and I'm going to be in a new feud soon, so it's not exactly the best time to ask for any time off. . . ."

Roman's eyebrows shot up. "You don't even have a date in mind yet? Do you at least know _where_ you want to get married?"

" _Yes._ " Seth heard the defensiveness in his voice and paused to take a deep breath. "Hawaii. She loves it there and it's warm, so. . . ." He sank down onto the bench and swore softly. Most of their friends were supportive, if still a bit surprised by the unexpected announcement, but questions like these made him feel like he was doing everything wrong. "I only proposed about a month ago, man. Are we really supposed to have everything figured out already? Not everyone's like Finn, going from engaged to married in three months."

"Hey, now. Don't go acting like he and Vero went faster than you and Becks have. At least not once the two of you hooked up, I mean." Then Roman gave Seth a sharp look. "This isn't a shotgun wedding, is it? I've heard Becks talk about what Irish mothers are like—"

" _No._ " Seth shook his head. "I just asked her because I love her and I felt like it was the right time. What's wrong with that? Why isn't that enough?"

Sensing he had perhaps pushed a bit too hard, Roman came over and hugged his friend. "I didn't mean it like that. I just know how . . . things have gone for you before, so I figured you would have done some planning this time."

Seth motioned to the door and Roman stepped out into the corridor first. "Well, I planned the ring. Doesn't that count for something? We know we want her family to be here, so we need to give them enough notice to make arrangements on their end. . . ."

When Seth saw Becky waiting for him further down the hall, he expected Roman to transfer his questions about colours and planning to her, but Roman simply gave her a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Have a good week, lovebirds. See you soon."

"Bye, Roman. Say hi to the kids and Galina for me." Once Roman had left, Becky wrapped her arms around Seth's waist and tilted her head back for a kiss. "Ready to leave? I just need to stop at a pharmacy before we go to the hotel. . . ."

"Sure." Seth didn't want to bring up the weird conversation with Roman, at least not yet, so they started chatting about the upcoming pay-per-view on the way to the pharmacy. While he waited in the rental car for Becky to return, though, ideas and worries started piling up in his head. Planning and venues and marriage licenses and so many things he hadn't considered. Would she keep her last name or take his or hyphenate? What would they do with her place in Los Angeles? Before he knew it, Becky was knocking on the window for him to unlock the door. "That was quick."

"Yeah, they couldn't fill some of my prescriptions, so I'll have to get those done later." As she buckled her seat belt, she glanced over at Seth. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just . . . I was just thinking. Nothing major," he added quickly. "We can talk about it at the hotel. What were we talking about before?"

"I think we somehow sidetracked to our favourite Mick Foley matches," Becky grinned, setting her bag on the floor and drawing her legs up. "I mean, he has so many classics. . . ." She rambled about her favourite Foley matches all the way to the hotel, all the way up the elevator, and even as Seth opened the door to their suite. "Someday, people are going to talk about your matches like that," she grinned, kissing his cheek.

Seth waited until Becky had taken off her shoes and was opening her bag to change the topic. "Do you know what your colours are?"

Becky gave him an odd look. "Have you been talking to Liv and Sasha or something? They're all about 'power colours' lately. Liv was just telling me how yellow's all about hope and positivity."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seth reached behind his head and loosened his bun. "No. It was Roman. He was asking about colours for bridesmaids and flowers and that sort of thing, and I didn't know what to tell him. We haven't really talked about any of that." He met Becky's gaze and hoped he didn't look too out of his depth. "Are we supposed to have that all figured out already?"

Becky shrugged and stepped in front of him, running her fingers through his hair. "No clue. I haven't done this before, remember? As long as both of us are fine with wherever we are in the process, isn't that what matters? Some people don't even bother getting engaged and just get married; some people stay engaged for years." Kissing his forehead, she smiled and added, "But don't worry: I'll leave wearing black to you."

"Do you want a white dress?" Seth knew it was traditional, at least in most of North America and Europe, and she looked incredible in white, so he had no complaints; as far as he was concerned, as long as she still wanted to marry him, she could wear whatever she wanted. After Charlotte had tried tricking her into dress shopping a couple weeks ago, however, Becky had been silent on the matter.

"I guess? I wasn't one of those girls who started planning her fantasy wedding at age eight, so you don't have to worry about some well-worn scrapbook of dream weddings. But yeah, I guess." Becky's voice softened as she pressed closer, still combing her fingers through his hair. "It doesn't have to be fancy. If we're still getting married in Hawaii, it can be a summery dress."

Seth wrapped his arms around her and tugged her forward until she was standing between his knees. "I'll marry you anywhere, anytime, in anything."

Becky pointed down to her t-shirt, an icy teal with a faded band logo. "I could wear turquoise."

"You could," Seth agreed, pushing up the hem of the shirt. "What other options do you have?"

It didn't take long for Becky to take the hint and pull her shirt over her head, exposing a red and black bra. "I gave you dibs on black, so that would leave red. . . ."

Seth pulled her onto his lap and started kissing his way down her neck. "That would depend on if you're keeping this," he said, tugging on her hair hard enough to make her gasp, "or if you're going to go natural for a few months."

"Ma would probably prefer pictures where I didn't look like a comic book character." When Seth slid his hands around to her back, she shivered. "But I'd have to clear that with WWE. . . ."

Nuzzling her collarbone, Seth unhooked her bra and slid it down as far as he could. "What other colours do you have here?" He pinched the fabric of her leggings and shook it before letting it snap back against her thigh. "Besides black."

Becky let her bra fall to the floor before wrapping her arms around Seth's neck. "I thought black was your favourite."

"It is, but. . . ." Seth tugged at her waistband enough that he could see her underwear. "Purple?" he said, laughing into her shoulder. "I love that you hardly ever match."

"You proposed to a wrestler, remember," Becky said, sliding off his lap and peeling off her leggings, "not a lingerie model." Then she pretended to reach for her bag. "Unless you really want me to try on all the different colours I have—"

Seth grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back to the bed, tumbling both of them over until she was straddling him again. "You look beautiful in everything," he murmured, running his hands up her back, "so it won't matter what you pick. Are you going to let me see it before the ceremony?" With a twinge, he realized Roman was partially right. Weddings were full of so many different levels of meaning—religious rites, cultural customs, family traditions—and he and Becky hadn't discussed any of it. "Or would you rather not, since it's one of those bad luck things?"

Becky paused with her hands under his shirt. "Are you getting superstitious on me, Rollins?"

"No. I just. . . ." At first, Seth planned to laugh it off—then take off his clothes and the rest of hers and happily forget all about his nagging worries. But the days of carefree, friends-with-benefits ease were gone; if he wanted the marriage to work—and he did, he absolutely did—that required honesty and openness. "I just don't want to mess anything up. All those people who doubt us, who don't think we're going to stay together—I don't want to give them any more ammunition, you know?"

Her hands abandoned his shirt and cupped his face instead as she leaned down to kiss him. "If we don't give them ammunition," Becky pointed out, "they'll make their own. We can't stop them; we can't anticipate _everything_. All we can do is ignore the shots." Cuddling up against his chest, she added, "You sure you don't want me to try things on for you?"

Seth ran a hand up and down her bare back, making her sigh. "When we're at home. You have more options there." Then he slid both hands along her hips, easing her panties down. "Besides, I need to catch up."

"You do." Becky barely waited until Seth had her panties down by her knees to kick them off before she started unfastening his jeans. "Maybe I should make _you_ try on a bunch of different colours. I know you at least have at least one orange shirt. . . ."

"Blame the Bears." Seth raised his hips to make it easier for Becky to take off his jeans, but she barely shoved them down to his thighs. "Lazy," he remarked with a small smirk.

She answered with a grin. "Impatient." Then she pushed him back down and kissed him, keeping her hips up just high enough that she wasn't touching his cock quite yet. It put her at an awkward angle and Seth knew she wouldn't want to maintain it for long, so he reached up to play with her breasts. Becky must have been expecting something else, because she pulled back slightly. "Do you want me to stop?"

 _What?_ The question alone took Seth by surprise. Even in their friends-with-benefits days, they hardly ever had miscommunication issues where sex was concerned; both of them were comfortable with their personal limits and voicing them if necessary. "What? No. I was just letting you lead, that's all." When she didn't immediately reply with _LETTING me?_ , Seth knew there had to be something larger at play. "Do _you_ want to stop? I know everyone thinks we're fucking constantly, but that doesn't mean we have to. . . ."

"I know. I want to, though." Sighing, Becky slid off him and sat on the bed. "But then I worry that I'm just proving people right—"

"No," Seth repeated firmly, struggling to sit up beside her. His half-removed jeans made it difficult, so he tugged them down the rest of the way and tossed them to the floor before hugging Becky close. "You just told me they're going to think whatever they want regardless of what we do, remember? So if we want to have sex, we will. If we don't, then we won't. Let them think what they want."

Becky slid her hands under his shirt again, but kept them on his abs, going no higher than his ribs. "I know," Becky repeated, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "But I don't like it when they always make it sound like you're the only one who's made mistakes. I know I'm not perfect—"

Seth stopped her with a kiss, then leaned back just enough to shed his t-shirt before wrapping his arms around her again. "You're perfect for me. I don't care about the rest." He stroked her back slowly, tracing the angles of her shoulder blades as she relaxed against him. "Want to get some rest?"

He didn't quite hear her reply at first since Becky's head was tucked under his chin, but he felt her sigh. "No. But we have an early morning, so—"

"What do you want to do?" Seth interjected quickly. No matter how hedonistic anyone thought they were, they had never shirked their responsibilities in favour of or because of sex, and he knew they wouldn't start; they both loved the business too much.

Becky snorted softly and even though he couldn't see it, Seth was sure she had rolled her eyes. "You know what I want to do."

Seth grinned, letting his fingers drift down her back. "Just so we're clear, though. . . ."

"You just want to hear me say it." Becky lifted her head and moved up to press her lips to Seth's ear. "I want to fuck you, you dope."

His laughter shook them both. "Well, only since you asked so nicely," he replied, falling back against the bed and drawing Becky down with him. It didn't take them long to pick up where they had left off and after a few hungry kisses, Becky had eased down on his cock and was moving against him slowly. 

"It was more of a statement," Becky replied, already breathing heavy as she tangled her fingers in his hair. "But if you want me to stop and ask properly, I can. . . ." She slowed her pace even more, almost sliding off him completely. "Do you want—"

"Yes." Seth grabbed her ass and pulled her hips against his, digging his fingers in hard enough that Becky whimpered against his shoulder. When her hands tightened in his hair, jolts of pain ran along his scalp, but they were the equivalent of back-up singers, adding to the song without overwhelming it; the rhythm building between him and Becky was what mattered, and everything else—from the softness of the bed cover under his back to the sound of his phone ringing in the background—was incidental.

Becky bit lightly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, low enough that the collar of his shirt would cover the mark. "You didn't let me finish the question," she murmured, words shredded by her ragged breathing. Her hands had moved down to his chest for balance, nails digging in every time her hips came down to meet his.

"I'd rather you finish something else." Seth's phone rang again, and in the crescendo of clarity right before he came, he recognized Roman's ringtone. When Becky did too and started to rise off him, Seth held her tight. "Later," he growled.

"Are you su—"

By the time Seth had rolled Becky onto her back, his phone had stopped ringing; by the time they were both exhausted, it was far too late—or early—to call Roman back.


	6. Chapter 6

"Fuck, I hate football!" Seth said more after that—swearing, of course, and some sort of armchair commentary on what a player had done wrong or what a referee hadn't done at all—but Becky didn't register the rest. She was surprised she even noticed the first part since she was so used to the refrain. 

A long afternoon of doing video chat interviews had taken its toll, however. Normally she loved talking about wrestling and sharing stories that built up some of her co-workers who deserved more attention and accolades, but this latest batch had almost all focussed on her engagement to Seth. Would she be taking his name? Was she going to step aside from in-ring action to focus on having a family? All it had taken was one photo and one ring, and she had gone from being Becky Lynch to Mrs. Seth Rollins. She was still delighted to be with him, to eventually marry him, but it didn't mean she wanted all her accomplishments—everything that made her _her_ —swept aside either.

"So stop watching then." Becky had said it before and she knew she would say it again; it was her own version of Seth's tired refrain. The only difference was that she normally kept it in her head, and this time it had somehow managed to slip out.

For a moment, Becky thought he might not have heard. She had been walking past the living room on the way to the kitchen, planning to make herself a strong coffee to get her through the next batch of interviews. Between the volume on the television and Seth's own commentary, she thought her muttering might have gone undetected. But she was wrong about that too.

Seth craned his neck and peered over the back of the couch at her. "What?"

Becky's next words didn't slip out the way the first ones had. She had considered them, weighed them, and ultimately knew nothing good would come from saying them. After endless interviews plastering a required smile on her face while reporters joked about Seth 'getting her in a ring' or asked which designer was making her wedding dress, she had too much frustration brewing inside her that hadn't been able to dissipate. "If the game's that bad, stop watching." 

Seth stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. "Becks, you know I'm hardly ever home to catch a game. . . ."

Gesturing at the hallway behind her, Becky snapped. "What _I_ know is that I've been stuck in that room all afternoon, hoping I'll get questions about my feud with Asuka or who I would like to tag with or even what my dream match is, but _no_ , what am I being asked? Which one of the Four Horsewomen is going to be my maid of honour! And you're not making it any easier, out here yelling at the damn TV because your team is fucking up like they always do!"

Setting his beer down on the coffee table with a thud that startled Kevin from his nap, Seth started to rise. "So that means I'm not even allowed to watch a damn football game in my own house on one of my few days off?"

Seth might have caught his wording too late, but Becky didn't. "Oh. That's right. _Your_ house. How could I forget? I guess I'll just go back to my room then, _Dad_." Even though her throat was tight—from anger, from thirst, from the tears that were just beginning to sting her eyes—Becky turned on her heel and marched right back to her office.

"Becks," Seth called after her. "I didn't—that's not what I meant. . . ."

Becky shut her office door behind her before her hands started shaking, refusing to slam it and give Seth the satisfaction. Why today? Why had his silly football rituals gotten under her skin this time and none of the others? Glancing at her desk, she was grateful for the mini-fridge tucked beneath it; at least she would still have water to drink, even if she would much rather have coffee. Not even a Cesaro-grade brew would be able to coax her out of that small room at the moment, though, so she collected herself as best she could and checked her reflection in a small artsy mirror to make sure she didn't look like a weepy mess. The last thing she needed when she was answering questions about her upcoming nuptials was to look like she had just been through an emotional wringer.

There was no knock on the door, but she wasn't surprised. Seth was smart enough to let her cool off a bit before he would try talking to her again. As silly as it was, Becky had hoped for a text, though, even just an emoji. _I started it,_ she reminded herself grimly as she set up her tablet for her next interview. Dimly she realized the television volume had been lowered; now she could only hear the moments when the commentators got particularly animated.

Right near the end of her next interview, her phone buzzed and she glanced down to see a pizza emoji right before the doorbell rang. _Busy. I'll eat later,_ Becky texted back, eyeing the granola bar on her desk with disdain. She would much rather have the pizza, but she didn't trust herself not to snap at Seth again.

 _Becky, please—_ She flipped her phone over so she couldn't see the rest of the message. There were only two more interviews to go, and maybe by then Seth would take Kevin for a walk, giving her a chance to sneak to the kitchen. Normally she loved their evening walks with the little Yorkie, but her mood had soured with each successive interview. The worst of it all was that the reporters didn't even see how banal their questions were, and Becky knew she'd probably look like an airhead in turn.

By the time she had finished her final interview, Becky's stomach was louder than her pride, but then calls started coming in to set up the next batch of interviews. She didn't recognize most of the numbers, so she answered with generic politeness until she saw a local number pop up. _Must be Marek,_ she thought; it looked like Black and Brave's number. "Hi, Marek. Seth's watching the game," she said, hoping she didn't sound too blunt. "Try texting him."

"No, he's not." The voice sounded oddly doubled—and it also wasn't Marek's. Then there was a knock at the office door. "Can we talk, please?"

Becky pressed her hands to her eyes and swore under her breath. She still felt too frazzled to have a civil conversation, but if Seth was willing to extend the proverbial olive branch, she had to put forth some effort too. "Give me a minute," she replied at last, ending the call and looking around at her desk. There was still work to be done, but she wasn't in the mood; she hadn't been for hours, to be honest, and getting away from it could only improve her frame of mind. She shut off her tablet, set her phone to route calls to voicemail, and went to the door.

Seth was standing on the other side, waiting patiently, the cordless handset dangling from his hand. "Knew I kept the landline around for something other than when Mom's checking on the place."

It explained why Becky vaguely recognized the number, at least; he had probably registered it around the same time Black and Brave was starting up, so the two numbers would be close in the sequence. "We can talk later," she said, hoping her voice wasn't too gruff. Doing interviews all day hadn't helped her throat. "You'll miss the third period." She would never be a full-fledged American football fan, but she still knew the game had quarters, not periods; holding Seth's gaze, she expected him to correct her, but aside from a slight twitch of his eye, he didn't react.

"Talking's more important," Seth replied simply, "and you need to eat. Please come downstairs and at least have some pizza and coffee."

The mention of coffee made Becky sniff the air and she was rewarded with the rich aroma from a freshly brewed pot. "Okay." She followed him through the living room, surprised to see that the television was off and a box of pizza was still on the coffee table. Kevin stirred as soon as they entered, hopping down off his favourite pillow to scamper over to her side. "Hey, you." Becky smiled despite herself, crouching down to pet the small dog. From that angle, she spotted something else on the kitchen table: a pouch of her favourite mint chocolates. _He must have had those delivered with the pizza,_ she thought, fighting a smile and losing, _or else he already had them stashed around here somewhere._

By the time she reached the kitchen, Seth already had two cups of coffee poured and he offered her the larger one before motioning her into the living room. "I'm sorry about the noise. I got caught up in the game and I forgot you were doing interviews today."

"I should have checked the batteries for my headphones last night," Becky allowed. "They would have helped some." Then she pointed at the television, now showing nothing more than their distorted reflections. "You should finish your game. You haven't been able to catch many this season."

Seth shook his head and gave a small shrug before sitting on the couch. "It's okay. Like I said, talking's more important." 

Becky suspected his team was also still losing horribly, but she kept that to herself. She set her coffee down on the table and grabbed a piece of pizza from the box while contemplating how to reply. "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. I was just getting so frustrated with all the interviews. . . ."

Tugging on her free hand, Seth pulled Becky down onto the couch beside him. They weren't sitting as close as they normally did, but she wasn't on the other end of the couch either. "Were they really just asking about wedding stuff?" His voice wasn't completely bleak, but it was definitely more than disappointed. Kevin looked at them both for a moment, apparently decided playtime wasn't happening any time soon, and went to curl up by the fireplace.

"For the most part, yeah." Becky finished her slice of pizza and grabbed her coffee again. "They were asking who was going to design the dress and how many karats the ring was and . . . I just don't care about any of that." She glanced down at her engagement ring. "This ring matters to me because you chose it. You put thought into it and I know that. It could have one diamond or twenty or none, and I'd love it just the same."

"Tell them you don't want to talk about your personal life. They usually ask if anything's off the table before the interview starts, right? So tell them the wedding is off-limits," Seth said firmly. "It's no one's business but ours."

As Becky set her coffee cup back on the table, she used it as an excuse to edge a bit closer to him. "It's not that easy. If it were just about me, I wouldn't care what they thought. But now what I do reflects on you too." She paused to consider how to word what she wanted to say next. Seth could take social media slights too personally and she didn't want him to come under fire for anything she did, but she knew he would get upset if he heard or read anything that cast her in an unflattering light. "If they think I'm a bitch, it's not just about _me_ being a bitch anymore—it'll be _Does Seth know what he's signing up for? Hope she's not like that at home!_ " She grabbed one of the couch pillows and pulled it onto her lap to keep her hands busy. It was one she had picked out, one Seth had jokingly said looked like a Muppet pelt, and the tufts of bright faux-fur gave her something to tug on safely.

"I don't care what they think—" Seth began.

"Yes, you do." Becky tried to keep her voice even as she said it. It wasn't a bad thing in and of itself—it was even healthy in a way—but sometimes Seth just felt too much or too deeply. "And that's okay. It's not wrong. It just means I need to learn how to navigate through the questions keeping you in mind while also answering in a way that's true to me."

Seth gently pried the pillow from her grasp and set it aside, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer. "That's part of it," he replied, "but it's not all of it. What else is bothering you?" 

Their legs were just barely touching now, and the simple solidity of his presence helped Becky relax a bit. "It's just . . . the questions!" she blurted, clenching her fists as if she were grabbing the offenders by their collars and shaking them. "They were so . . . vapid. I started training when I was fifteen. I've travelled all over the world for this business. And now the interviewers are reducing me to dresses and honeymoon destinations and that will never, ever happen to you! You'll get _Congratulations!_ and pats on the back and the wink-wink about 'locking down Becky Lynch' and then it'll be back to your current feud or how Black and Brave is doing."

"I'm not so sure about that. WWE put _Engaged to Becky Lynch_ on my infographic this week." Seth reached up to smooth some hair behind Becky's ear and he let his hand linger. "Then again, I consider that one of my greatest accomplishments. _Husband_ is the next title I'm aiming for."

Becky knew he was only trying to make her smile, not make light of the situation, but she still felt a flare of annoyance. The interviewers' annoying questions weren't his fault, though, and venting more probably wasn't going to make her feel any better. "Finish watching your game," she said softly. "You can probably still catch the fourth quarter. I'm going to soak in the tub for a bit." Ideally, she would have gone to the gym to work off some of her frustration, but Black and Brave was getting its alarm system updated so it was closed even to her.

Seth's smile let her know he caught—and appreciated—the correction. "Do you want company?"

"You'd miss the rest of your game." Becky still let him slide his free hand around her waist, drawing her onto his lap, but she stopped just short of kissing him. Given the mood she was in, once she got started doing anything to blow off steam—cleaning, working out, having sex—she wasn't likely to stop any time soon.

Seth kept pulling her forward until she was right against his cock, and since he was only wearing sweatpants, she could feel _everything_. "I'm more interested in another game right now," he replied. "It's called _Distractions_."

"Seth. . . ." Becky shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. He had one hand resting lightly on her ass while the other stroked her back, and if _Distractions_ was an actual game, he could easily be a champion. "I should cool off for a bit. Remember what happened last time I was riled up?"

His deep chuckle said more than a simple _yes_ ever could and he pulled her closer yet, sliding a hand up the back of her shirt. "Except this time, I don't have to wrestle on Monday," he murmured against her neck, "so you can scratch up my back all you want."

Between his mouth and his warmth and his hands, Becky felt like she was floating and she let herself bask in the sensation for a moment. She and Seth didn't fight often, but he was very good at converting her anger into amorous energy. "What about the poor couch?" she managed, leaning back into his touch as he unhooked her bra. It was still trapped under her shirt, but she doubted either would stay on for much longer. "We just got new pillows. . . ."

"Upstairs." Seth lurched to his feet, bringing her with him, and started heading towards the staircase. 

"Kevin . . . walk?" Becky let out a gasp when Seth pressed her against the wall on the landing. Her coffee was still on the table, along with the pizza box—and her mint chocolates—but Kevin was pretty good about not getting into food.

"Already went." Seth slid one hand up the front of her shirt, pushing her loosened bra up so he could tease her nipples. The other hand plunged into her leggings, making her swear. "Do you always get this wet when you're angry," he murmured by her ear, "or am I just special?"

"Shut up." Becky tangled both hands in his curls and kissed him roughly, pausing only when the pleasure became too much and she had to let out a moan. She wanted to shrug out of her shirt and bra, to be as bare as possible, but Seth wasn't giving her a breath of room to move. All her frustration and anger from the afternoon swirled and spun, and Seth's fingers danced and delved, and then for one effervescent moment, it was all one and the same. It felt like the pressure of sunlight against closed eyes, blossoming with heat and wonder.

"Careful." Seth's voice sounded like it was caught in a bubble, and Becky opened her eyes slowly to see one of the framed art prints they had chosen together had fallen to the floor. The glass hadn't broken, but the frame had bent slightly. When she reached for the waistband of his pants, he grabbed both her hands and pulled her towards their bedroom. "Less to damage in here."

Becky had to laugh, mostly because it was true. Ever since she had started living there, they had slowly moved most of the precious or breakable things out of the bedroom; bed sheets and pillows were relatively cheap to replace and didn't draw much attention. "You hardly ever use your office," she pointed out as he pushed her back onto the bed. "We could convert it—"

Grabbing Becky by the ankles, Seth flipped her over. Then he shoved her shirt and bra up to her shoulders, leaving her to shrug out of the tangled clothes while he kissed his way up her spine. "We're not having a sex room." Before Becky could retort, he added, "All the other rooms would be envious."

"Very considerate of you." Becky struggled to get her shirt and bra over her head. It didn't help that Seth had already pushed down her leggings and had his cock just barely pressed against her, making her hips twitch. "Too bad that consideration didn't extend to my coffee. . . ."

"You like iced coffee well enough." Then he grabbed her shirt and bra and tugged them free, biting the back of her neck lightly as he thrust into her. "Yours will be plenty cold by the time we're done."

Becky stretched out like a cat basking in a sunbeam, her fingers flicking out and clutching at the bed cover like claws. She tried to kick her leggings off the rest of the way, but Seth held her mostly still until she climaxed again, her scream only slightly muffled by the bed. As Becky was catching her breath, Seth yanked her leggings free and eased out of her only long enough to roll her onto her back. "Keep this up," she gasped as he entered her again, "and you're definitely missing the fourth quarter." She wrapped her legs around him as tightly as she could, but all her muscles felt like they had melted.

Seth grinned before he kissed her. "I hate football, remember?"


	7. Chapter 7

When Seth noticed Becky shuffling past the living room, his first instinct was to check the volume on the television. As much as he had enjoyed the aftermath of their disagreement a couple weeks ago—calling it a fight seemed a tad dramatic, even for him—he didn't like seeing her upset. Judging from the bleary look in Becky's eyes, though, she was more likely to nap than nag. "Becks?" he called out as she went into the kitchen. "Everything okay?" He thought she had just been on a video call with her family, so his thoughts immediately went to her father's health.

"Yeah. Just tired." The way she said it made it clear that her fatigue went beyond the mere physical. When she returned from the kitchen, Becky had a bottle of water in one hand and an energy bar in the other, but she didn't look inclined to open either of them. Glancing at the television screen, she yawned and said, "It can wait until after the game's done. I might take a nap so I'm up in time for Kevin's walk." She glanced around for the small dog, who was curled up by the fireplace having a nap of his own.

After setting the remote control on the coffee table, Seth spread his arms wide. "C'mere." When Becky hesitated, he stood and took the snacks from her hands before pulling her into a hug. "What, I'm not your favourite pillow anymore?"

"Always." When she pressed her face to his chest and sighed, Seth tightened his arms around her. "But you had a long day at Black and Brave yesterday and then you had to deal with the plumbing leak at the cafe. You deserve a break. Watch the game."

"I can do both. Come sit." Seth sat back on the couch, rearranging his legs so she could cuddle up beside him. When she was really tired, Becky would curl herself around his arm like a child with her favourite stuffed animal. "Is the volume okay?"

Becky nodded, snuggling up to Seth's chest and shutting her eyes. As soon as he curled an arm around her, she wrapped hers around it. "Mmhmm. Thank you."

"Any time." Seth kissed the top of her head. "Is it anything I can help with?"

"Hm?" Becky sounded like she was already half asleep. "No. It's nothing bad. It's just hard to find a date that works for everyone in my family. My stepdad's niece is getting married this year too and they've already set a date, so Mom wants to be there for that. But Richie just got promoted, so he has to be careful when he takes time off. It doesn't seem like there's a time frame that works for everyone."

"We could just do the courthouse thing," Seth reminded her, "and have a party for our families when everyone's able to be here." That was another sore spot, he knew: most of his family was still in Iowa, so it would be easy for them to attend, but it was going to be considerably harder for her friends and family back in Ireland to make it over to the States. "We could go today."

Becky raised her head enough to mildly glare at him. "I don't think they do that on Sundays. Plus we'd need a license."

Mindful of Becky's head, Seth shrugged. "Maybe I already have one." Tightening his arm around her, he added, "I'm just saying we could. With what our schedules are like, our families would understand."

Burrowing closer, Becky chuckled, a sound Seth felt more than heard. "You're just trying to get out of going to Hawaii," she teased. It was one of the few wedding-related things they had figured out, or at least narrowed down: they had a shortlist of three potential venues, but they didn't want to make too many inquiries lest anything get leaked to he media.

"Never." Seth stroked her hair with his free hand. "I'm just saying we can do our own thing. Elope. Whatever. This is supposed to be a good thing, Becks. It's supposed to make us happy. I don't want it stressing you out."

"I know. I just want to be able to make it all work." Becky reluctantly removed one hand from Seth's arm to reach up and stroke his beard. "I love you."

No matter how many times or ways she said it, Seth would never get tired of hearing it. "I love you too." Over by the fireplace, Kevin noticed that they seemed to be staying put, so he trotted over and jumped up onto the couch, curling up by Becky's hip. "Yeah, I love you too, buddy."

Becky stopped stroking Seth's beard long enough to pat Kevin's head. "Same." Once the little dog had made himself comfortable, Becky curled herself back around Seth's arm. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure." Seth jerked his chin in the direction of the side table. "I've got my coffee on this side," he added, "so I'm good."

"Coffee and your wife," Becky murmured. "We've got you surrounded." 

Her breathing was already slowing down, getting deeper, and Seth had to fight the urge curl up behind her and take a nap of his own. His weekend had been packed and they had an early morning interview on Monday, so the lazy Sunday afternoon had been like the calm before the storm. "My favourite place to be," he countered, kissing the top of her head again.

It didn't take Becky long to fall asleep and she dozed through most of the fourth quarter, even when Seth forgot she was there and started yelling about a call one of the linesmen had made. Becky didn't stir, thankfully, but Seth was starting to lose feeling in that arm. "Would you really elope?"

The question took Seth by surprise in more ways than one. He hadn't heard or felt a change in her breathing, so he had assumed Becky was still sleeping. More than that, though, there had been a strangely vulnerable note to her voice. "Of course."

Becky sat up slowly, careful not to dislodge Kevin, who had snuggled even closer between her and Seth. Once she was upright, she dug her thumbs into Seth's forearm and massaged some sensation back into it. "Like right now? If I asked you to right now?"

Seth could tell by the look in her eyes, now somewhat brighter after her nap, that she wasn't being completely literal, but he also knew his answer still mattered. "Well, like you said, it's a Sunday. But if it weren't . . . no." He let Becky work her way up to a steady glare before adding, "You still look a little tired, so I'd take you out for coffee first. I wouldn't want the officiant thinking I coerced you."

"Smart-ass." Becky let go of his arm and leaned over Kevin to hug Seth more fully. "I love you."

"So I didn't get demoted during your nap?" Seth teased. "Good to know." Then he cupped her face for a moment before kissing her. "When I say I don't care about some wedding detail or that it doesn't matter to me, you know I don't mean that in a dismissive way, right? What I mean is that you are the only part of the wedding that matters to me. We can have a ceremony or a parade or go to a courthouse or whatever you want. All I need is for you to be in the equation." Then he chuckled softly. "You getting married to _me_ , that is."

"And here I thought I was getting married to Cesaro. I suppose I ought to text him and tell him to cancel the venue reservation," Becky quipped. Then she reached down and ruffled Kevin's fur. "Hey, you. Want to go for a walk? Maybe some fresh air will wake me up."

Seth turned off the television and stood. "Sounds good. Let me find my keys."

By the time he got his keys—and his cell phone, in case things went awry at the cafe again—Becky was already at the door, her shoes tied and Kevin's leash clipped to his collar. She was looking down at her phone, so Seth let himself take a moment to enjoy the simple beauty of the moment. He couldn't remember enjoying such average, everyday things with someone else before he had started properly dating Becky. Taking Kevin for a walk, going for groceries, deciding what to have for dinner: the most mundane things meant so much more when she was there to share them. He had never regretted proposing to her, but in that small, simple moment, he didn't think he had ever appreciated it more. "You okay?" Becky asked, breaking him out of his reverie. "Or did my nap make you sleepy?"

"I'm good." Seth came over and kissed her, pulling her close enough that he started second-guessing the walk. "But I might need a nap later, if you're volunteering for pillow duty."

Becky just laughed. "Because you get so much sleep when your head's on my lap." 

"After a while, I do," Seth grinned. "I just . . . work my way up to it." They would either start making out or play-wrestling—which also led to making out—but it was always slow and playful and oddly relaxing in its own right. "I'll set the alarm," he said after Becky stepped back and opened the door. The burst of fresh air woke Kevin up and had him straining at the leash, so Becky went outside and let him explore the front yard while Seth locked up.

If anyone had told Seth he'd come to enjoy simple walks through the neighbourhood, he would have called them delusional, but the strolls were becoming his favourite part of the weekend. Kevin would trot alongside him and Becky so faithfully they often didn't need the leash, and Seth loved having his arm around Becky's shoulders as they chatted about the day they'd had or what was scheduled for the week to come. His neighbours recognized Becky well enough now that they greeted her as well, and even though they weren't home often enough to be woven into the community fabric of dinner invitations and block parties quite yet, Seth knew it was a possibility—and for the first time, it was something he could see himself wanting. He just hoped Becky would be able to love Iowa enough to want to stay there.

"Twitter's going to accuse me of breaking your television or forbidding you from watching football pretty soon." Becky's tone was jovial enough, but Seth could hear the slight hint of concern in it.

Laughing, Seth kissed her, cutting it short to tell Kevin to get off a neighbour's lawn. "You broke the internet with the engagement picture, remember? It's still in recovery. People probably haven't even noticed that I haven't posted."

"You would actually have to check Twitter to know that," Becky teased, bumping him with her hip.

"Twitter's doing just fine without me, I'm sure." Seth squeezed her shoulder. "Feeling any better?"

Becky nodded as she waved at a neighbour who called out a greeting to them. "Yeah. I just wish more of the wedding stuff would fall into place, I guess. Other people make it seem so easy."

"If you're thinking of Dean and Renee," Seth replied, "they got married in their backyard in the middle of the night. Not exactly typical."

Becky tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You have a backyard, though. Shame to let it go to waste. . . ."

"We can get Kevin a doghouse for his birthday." Seth chuckled as the little dog glanced up at the sound of his name. "With one of those doors that's activated by a microchip so he doesn't have to worry about any strays getting inside." His chuckle bloomed into a full laugh when both Becky and Kevin gave him the same incredulous look: the Yorkie liked being outside by himself about as much as Becky enjoyed driving. "Okay, maybe not. What about a porch swing?"

"So I can fall asleep outside?" Becky went on tiptoe to kiss him as they waited on the corner for a car to turn. "Maybe if we got another dog to keep Kevin company." Her eyes shone with mischief as she added, "He'd probably get along well with a pug. . . ."

"It wouldn't be fair to a new dog when we're away so often," Seth pointed out. He was lucky that his mother lived close by and that Leighla was good about spending time with Kevin too. "Maybe one of those barbecue pits like Corbin has. . . ."

Becky poked him in the side. "And a pergola!"

Seth snorted and shook his head. "You just like the word."

" _You_ just don't know what it means," Becky retorted with a smug smile, "but you don't want to admit it."

They shared ideas back and forth for the rest of the walk, and ended up going two blocks further down than they had intended. Seth had never though much about things like home renovations or yard accessories before, but with Becky in the equation—her humour, her creativity, her energy—the goals seemed worth the work, parts of a future they were building day by day.


	8. Chapter 8

Becky didn't enjoy driving at the best of times, so she was grateful that Seth liked it. Other aspects of their relationship might have required negotiation, but that was easy to decide, at least. He'd had a very early session at Black and Brave that morning, however, so while it gave her the chance to sleep in and have the house to herself for a while, it also meant that she either had to drive herself to do her errands or she would have had to wait until Seth got home. "Just get in the car, Irish," she told herself, trying to channel her inner Roman voice. She still wasn't totally familiar with the Quad Cities, but she knew how to get to everything on her list.

One of the items on her list involved Seth, so she left it to the end, and even then Becky debated simply waiting until they were both at home. She found herself plotting her route so that she passed by Black and Brave on her way back to the house, though, so she parked in one of the reserved spots behind the academy and went in through the staff entrance at the back. _Maybe I can surprise him,_ she thought as she pulled the door shut behind her and quickly jammed the keys in her purse so they wouldn't jingle and give her away.

The first part of the two-class session had already ended and the second half wasn't due to start until late afternoon, but a few keen students lingered, eager to pick Seth and Marek's brains about technique. Becky was enough of a regular presence at the academy that they all recognized her. "Hi, Becky!" Siana called out, waving from her perch on a weightlifting bench. Her hair had almost completely escaped her ponytail and she was dripping with sweat, and she couldn't look happier. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good. Hey, everyone." Any doubts Becky had about stopping in were quelled when she saw the radiant happiness on Seth's face; being greeted with so much affection never got old. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. I thought the first session ended half an hour ago."

"It did," Marek assured her. "We're just chatting." Then he turned to the lingering students. "But you guys will have to leave soon, because we should all cool down and have something to eat before the next session." The students grumbled but stood and headed for the locker rooms, leaving only Seth, Marek, and Becky in the gym area. "Go ahead and steal him, Becks," Marek added, giving Seth a playful punch to the arm. "Maybe you can get him to tidy up his bun while you're at it. I can't disgrace the ManBunMonday hashtag with _that_."

Seth had curls springing free at all angles, but he didn't seem bothered. He just cupped Becky's face in both hands and kissed her, grinning all the while. "This is a nice surprise. What's up?" He glanced out the front window. "Did you park in the back? We can go out for lunch if you're not busy."

Becky paused, glancing over at Marek, who was resetting some of the machines. He was one of Seth's closest friends and Becky trusted him too, but she still wanted a few moments of privacy. "Yeah I'm in a reserved spot. Lunch sounds good. Can we talk in the office for a minute first, though?"

"Of course." Then Seth raised his voice. "Marek? We'll be in the office." After Marek gave him a nod, Seth unlocked the office door and motioned Becky inside. "I hope you didn't mind that I didn't wake you up before I left. You seemed really tired yesterday."

Shaking her head, Becky kissed him again before perching on the edge of the desk, setting her purse beside her. "I missed my favourite pillow," she quipped, "but otherwise I know I needed the sleep." When she started to fidget with the zipper on her purse, she forced herself to look at her engagement ring instead.

Seth's gaze caught the nervous motion and he paled a bit. "Becks . . . is something wrong?"

Becky forced herself to flatten her hands on her thighs. "Remember when you proposed, you said you couldn't stop thinking about what your life was going to be like in a year?"

Some colour returned to Seth's face as he sighed in relief, eyes shining. He always put a lot of thought into what he said during serious moments, and he seemed touched that Becky remembered. "Five years, ten years," he echoed. "Yeah, why?"

Hands shaking slightly, Becky unzipped her purse. "I know you said _husband_ was the next title you were aiming for," she said slowly, pulling a plastic sandwich bag out from under her wallet, "but how do you feel about getting a different title first?" Even as she said it, doubt surged through her and her fingers tightened around the plastic. Finally she thrust it out towards Seth, not quite meeting his gaze as her hand trembled.

"What?" There was no way he could have read the display already, but he recognized the item in the baggie well enough to guess. " _What?_ " He gazed down at the bag for a moment before opening it up and taking out the stick, as if the bag itself was somehow interfering with the display. "WHAT?"

For a moment, Becky wasn't sure how to read his reaction. With his gaze riveted to the pregnancy test, all she had to judge by was the volume of his voice and the rhythm of his breathing, both increasing by the second. "Seth?" His name came out as a squeak. "What—"

Becky saw the plastic bag flutter to the ground. Then Seth swept her off the desk, arms wrapped tight around her hips as he kissed her until they were both breathless. "Are you serious?" He barely gave her time to nod before kissing her again, spinning her in a giddy circle. " _You're serious?_ But I thought you were on the pill. . . ."

"I was." Becky clung to him as she caught her breath. "But my prescription ran out and then that one pharmacy didn't have it, so I was going to wait until we got back here. But they were out too, so I had it back-ordered. And then . . . well, you hated football." It was hardly the only time they'd had unprotected sex, but it had been a particularly busy night. With a sheepish smile, she added, "Then the pharmacy called, but I was feeling a bit off, so I didn't want to start taking the pills again before I saw a doctor, and. . . ." She gestured vaguely at the pregnancy test. Her heart had nearly stopped when she read the result, and she still wasn't sure it wasn't all a dream. "So are you okay being _Dad_ before you reach _Husband_?"

"YES!" The sheer joy in Seth's voice nearly bowled her over, and then they were kissing again—kissing and laughing and crying—and it felt more like a dream than ever.

They were still kissing—and laughing and crying—when there was a short knock on the door, followed by Marek poking his head into the office. "I thought you two weren't having sex in the office anymore."

Seth still had the pregnancy test in his hand and he waved it proudly before he went shock-still. "Shit. We should have told our parents first, right?"

Still laughing, Becky reached up and dried off Seth's face with the cuff of her sleeve. "It's okay. Marek's not going to tell anyone."

Shaking his head, Marek stepped into the office and came closer to read the stick for himself. "Congrats, man! Both of you. You'll be amazing parents." He gave Seth a brotherly punch to the shoulder before hugging Becky. "And don't worry: the last of the students finally cleared out. No one heard you but me." Then he gave Seth an appraising look. "Are you going to be able to play it cool for the session this afternoon," he asked plainly, "or did you want to reschedule?"

Becky kissed Seth when he started to answer. "Can it be rescheduled? Or even just pushed back a bit?" Gazing up at Seth, she added, "I love you, but you're glowing brighter than the sun. That's more than 'sex in the office' happiness on your face. Your students will know something's up."

"You're right." Seth wrapped his arms around Becky again and kissed her head. "Should we go to a doctor before we tell our parents?" He glanced over to his friend, who already had two kids. "What do we do?"

Marek grinned. "You go home and have something to eat and you _breathe_. I'll come up with something to tell the class. Go on." Then he mimed covering his eyes. "I saw nothing. But I imagine I'll be hearing some good news in a few days," he added with a wink.

After Marek left them alone, Seth let out another happy yell. "Oh god. We'll have to tell Hunter and Vince too. . . ." Then Seth paled again. "Shit. Roman told me this better not be a shotgun wedding. . . ."

"Well, when we started planning," Becky pointed out, "it wasn't." Then she rested her head against his chest. "We can get married before if you want." Laughing as he placed a hand on her belly, she added, "I won't be showing for a few months, so we could have a ceremony and _then_ tell people. . . ."

"We could, but—" Seth stopped himself and let out another whoop, spinning Becky around gently. "Marek's right. Let's go home."

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay to drive? Your hands are shaking."

"I'll be fine." As if to demonstrate, Seth bent down and picked up the plastic baggie, tucking the pregnancy test back inside with a reverence usually reserved for family heirlooms. Then he grinned, his eyes still sparkling. "I'm still calling you my wife, you know, no matter when we end up officially getting married."

"I know." Becky gave her belly a small pat. Every once in a while she thought she could feel a flutter, but she wasn't sure if it was real or simply her imagination in overdrive. She certainly hadn't been expecting a pregnancy, but she hadn't planned to fall in love with Seth either. She'd had enough beautiful surprises in life that she had learned to embrace them when they came. "Since it'll be a while before this one can call you _Dad_ , I suppose I can start calling you _Husband_ a little bit early."

Seth looked around in a daze, moving forward a step before stopping, clutching the wrapped pregnancy test like a good luck charm before handing it back to Becky. Glancing down at himself, wearing only his workout shorts and shoes, he murmured, "I can shower at home."

Becky kissed his cheek and nudged him out of the office and into the main gym. "Go shower. Five minutes won't hurt anything." Then she paused. "If we drive home together, one of the cars will be left here. I never thought of that." They were usually together so having two vehicles out at the same time hardly ever happened. "We can both—"

Looking up from the dumbbells he was cleaning, Marek smiled. "Don't worry about it, Becks. That's why we have reserved parking. You can take it home tomorrow. It'll be fine here."

Seth practically ran into the locker room and must have barely rinsed off before he changed into street clothes, because he was back in a matter of moments, his wet hair leaving large damp spots on the shoulders of his t-shirt. "Let's go get coffee and then head home." Then his eyes went wide. "Wait. Can you still have coffee?" His half-open bag dangled from his hand.

" _Yes_ , she can still have coffee. In moderation." Shaking his head, Marek came over and gently pushed the couple towards the back door. "If I have any parenting books left at home," he add with mock menace, "I'm dropping them off at your house."

"Bye, Marek." Becky turned back to Seth after Marek locked the rear door behind them. "I'm sorry. I should have told you at home, but I was out and . . . and you look stunned." She stopped just short of saying _terrified_. "I know this isn't something we really talked about," she added, voice shaking, "but if you're not ready—"

"We'll be ready." Seth wrapped his arms around her. "I just . . . this is amazing. I never thought. . . . "

They held each other in awed silence for a few moments, simply smiling and catching their breath and letting the magnitude of the news settle in. Then Becky poked Seth in the stomach. "You'll have to travel solo to the shows for a while—or without me, anyway. I won't be able to wrestle." She said it with a mixture of wonder and wistfulness. Wrestling had been her life for years, and now it was helping her build a new one—one that would make it take a back seat for at least a year. "But we definitely have a good reason not to be focussed on wedding plans now. We'll need to fix up a nursery and pick out names. . . ."

Seth laughed as he started to tear up again. "And maybe by then, we can convince ten people about the beach proposal to hold Roman to his word."

"Doubtful," Becky replied, "but we'll need formula money, so it's worth a shot."


End file.
